Colds, ulcers, flu, and cancer are things we get. Schizophrenia is something we are.

None of us are entirely well, and none of us are irrecoverably sick.

Who but a brazen crazy person would go one-on-one with blank paper or canvas armed with nothing but ideas?

Fear that I was very different from everyone else. Fear that deep down inside I was a shallow fraud, that after the revolution or after Jesus came down to straighten everything out, everyone from hippies to hard-hats would unfold and blossom into the beautiful people they were while I would remain a gnarled little wart in the corner, oozing bile and giving off putrid smells.

I saw a study the other day showing that some atypical anti-psychotic was at least as good as mood stabilizers in preventing suicide. It's a very good thing to decrease suicide but we should care at least a little if I'm not killing myself because I feel better or if I just can't remember where I put the damn gun.

Knowing that you're crazy doesn't make the crazy things stop happening.

Life for the unwell is discontinuous and unpredictable. Things just come out of nowhere. People try but mostly do a lousy job of taking care of you.